


Say My Name

by PsychoVigilante



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Accent, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingerfucking, Jealousy, Pining, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Roleplay, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 16:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21211634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoVigilante/pseuds/PsychoVigilante
Summary: Reader is heartbroken over Jason, so she goes to Dick for comfort. The two start a FWB relationship to distract reader from pining over the love of her life.





	Say My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a special announcement. I just made a ko-fi account. If you'd like to support me and my coffee drinking habits please feel free to donate as much or as little as you want, or not at all! It's just a tipping service :) To anyone who does donate however, thank you so much, you have no idea how much it means to my broke ass lmao hope you enjoy this one. It's pretty long.

“Woah, what's wrong? Why are you crying?” Dick worried as soon as he opened the door. “Come in, sweetheart.” 

You hiccupped and step inside his dark room, standing awkwardly and trying to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“Come here. Tell me what's wrong?” he pulled you into a warm hug. You buried your face in his chest, bunching your fists into his shirt.

You heard Dick sigh after getting no response from you. 

“How can I help?” he offered. 

You looked up at him, his sharp chiseled outline dimly illuminated by the moonlight coming in from his window. Even in the darkness you could make out how his eyebrows were knitted into a frown, his lips tight with caution. 

You could feel his heat radiating, his heartbeat on your palms which were now flat against his chest. Through wet lashes, you tried to convey what you wanted with your eyes, only to have him look even more confused. 

So you pulled him by the shirt and kissed him hard on the lips, forcing his to part, throwing your arms around his neck shamelessly. 

“Mmmpf,” he let out a surprised cry. Yet, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, responding to your kiss, until he finally realised what was happening. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he stopped you, “Not that I haven't thought about this since forever, but are you sure you're alright? Tell me what's wrong.” 

“Please, Dick,” you sniffled, “Make me forget about him. Just for tonight.” 

“Who?” he frowned. 

You didn't answer.

“Who hurt you, sweetheart?” he asked gently, his hand went up to caress your cheek. 

“He didn't do it on purpose,” you sighed sadly. 

_He_ didn't know that you've been in love with him for 6 years, he didn't know that he was the subject of all your daydreams and fantasies, he didn't know that having his hands all over another girl would hurt you. 

“Just make me forget, please?” you begged the man whom you considered your best friend, your confidant, even an older brother. 

“I don't want to take advantage of you when you're emotionally vulnerable,” he protested, despite his arms tightening around you. 

“I want you tonight, Dick, please,” you tried, “I- I need you. Just for tonight.” 

Dick looked at you intensely, his gaze piercing your eyes, making sure you're in the right mind. Your head was clear, it was just your heart that was crushed. 

“Okay,” he tilted your head up, “I’ll make you forget.” 

He bunched your hair in his fists and gently tugged your head back to expose your neck, and then started softly kissing your skin, nipping at your earlobe, licking at your pulse. 

“I’ll make sure my name is the only one you're screaming tonight,” he whispered, hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin. 

His hands started to roam your body, squeezing your ass, going underneath your shirt to unclasp your bra and then tossing it away. His hands moved to cup your breasts, kneading them. He groaned into your mouth as you prodded his with your tongue, wanting to taste him. 

The two of you were panting desperately, your body writhing against his, seeking friction to relieve the pressure you felt between your legs. You could feel his length grow harder and harder underneath the constraints of his boxers, rubbing against your lower tummy. 

He pulled off your shirt, exposing your breasts, then slipped you out of your shorts smoothly. You tugged at his shirt as well, trying to rip it off him so you could finally feel his hard body against yours. He helped you take off his clothes, his boxers gone along with everything else. 

Once you were both standing naked, grinding and twisting your bodies against each other, you pushed him back hard so he collapsed on his bed. 

You immediately went to straddle him, his hands automatically flying to your waist, rubbing up and down your body. You started rubbing your pussy lips all over his long shaft. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, “You’re leaking all over my cock, baby.”

“That’s the idea. And you’d have to question your own sexual history if I wasn’t this wet,” you smirked at him, appreciating the way he looked beneath you. His eyes were hooded, his hair sticking to his forehead, his muscular body covered by a light sheen of sweat that reflected whatever light there was coming from outside. 

“You usually this snarky when you’re going to fuck someone?” he grinned. 

You raised your hips and guided his cock to your entrance before sinking down slowly, feeling him stretching you wide, feeling him rub against your walls, feeling him already touching your sweet spot. 

The both of you moaned softly, careful not to make much noise. 

“Only when I’m on top,” you breathed a reply. You started moving your hips, your mouth falling slack at the pleasure the friction brought you. 

“Shit, you look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, hands cupping your heaving breasts, “Your tits look so amazing. Wanted to see them for so long.”

“Really?” you managed to ask despite the ecstasy you were feeling. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, “But I made you a promise.”

You slowed down, trying to remember what he said, tilting your head to one side in curiosity. 

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the waist and then with strength, flipped you over so that he was now on top of you, without taking his cock out. You let out a small squeak at the surprise, which was muffled by a heated, wet kiss. 

He rested his forehead against yours, and growled lowly, “I told you that my name will be the only one you’ll be screaming tonight.”

Then, he started pounding into you, whipping his hips with a force that kept on knocking the breath out of you again and again. 

“Dick!” you moaned vulgarly, “Fuck, Dick, fuck!”

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, “Say my name.”

“Dick!” you repeated, his name like a mantra to keep you focused on reality. The fact that he was bent over on top of you, his broad shoulders engulfed you, his arms propping himself up was next to your head- you felt that you were truly consumed by Dick Grayson that night.

“You’re so wet and warm for me, sweetheart,” he continued, “You take my cock so well.”

You could only whine in response. You couldn’t believe that _the_ Golden Boy Dick Grayson had such a filthy mouth. 

“You like my cock, baby?” he asked, “Tell me you like my cock.”

“I like your cock, Dick!” you mewled, feeling your high coming onto you faster and faster. 

“That’s a good girl,” he purred, “I can feel you clench around me. You wanna come, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, “Yes, Dick, please let me come!”

“Alright, come for me baby,” he choked as he chased his own high, “Come all over my cock like a good girl.”

“Dick,” you let out a long whine before you shut your eyes at the intense burning you felt, your vision white, gasping for air as you felt your pussy flutter, clenching at his shaft. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck,” you heard Dick moan distantly as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

When you came down, Dick withdrew his cock and then spilled all over your body, strings of hot creamy liquid squirting on your breasts, catching on your nipple, pooling in your belly button. 

“Shit,” he sighed against your lips, giving you another sweet kiss.

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement. 

He got off you and tried to reach for his shirt on the floor. He wiped you down with it, giving you an apologetic smile that you found endearing. 

“Goddamn, you’re amazing,” he pulled you into his arms, spooning you from behind.

“Was it true what you said earlier?” you asked curiously, “Did you really think of me before this?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “I’m sure all of us did at one point. But I never stopped thinking, you know? You’re kinda my guilty pleasure.”

“I’m your spank bank, is that it?” you giggled. 

“You don’t know how sexy you look when you walk around the house in those booty shorts and tank tops,” he accused you. “Shit. I don’t think I’d be able to get you out of my head after this.”

“I wish I was the same,” you let out a sad sigh.

You felt Dick still behind you. 

“I’m not going to ask…” he trailed off. 

You shifted and turned around to face him. 

“But you want to,” you pointed it out. 

You were close again, lips just inches away from each other. 

“Of course I want to,” he started caressing your cheek, “I want to know who hurt you.”

You felt your chest tighten again at the reminder. 

You remained silent, just looking into his eyes. But after a few moments, you felt a wave of sleepiness crash over you. You shot up straight, attempting to leave. 

“I should go now,” you climbed off the bed. 

“No, don’t go,” Dick all but _whined_ at you, “I like to cuddle after sex.”

“I can’t stay here, Dick,” you explained, “If someone saw me leave in the morning looking like this, they’d know we slept together.”

“So?” he said silently. 

“So,” you started, “I… Don’t want anyone to know. I mean, we’re not together. It was just a one time thing.”

You started putting your clothes back on. Dick stood up, towering above you. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he suggested, “If- if you need me. I’m at your disposal.”

You bit your lip with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart,” he pulled you in, “I care about you. If doing this- coming to me- if it helps you, then I’d be happy to do it.”

You looked up at him, feeling the guilt creeping up to you. You knew now that Dick probably felt something for you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

But you knew your heart still belonged to _him_.

And you knew that you’d just be using Dick. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, tiptoeing to give him a peck on the lips, before leaving to your room. 

***

There was this really annoying repetitive sound that woke you up from your dreamless sleep. 

“You awake?” you heard Dick’s muffled voice behind your closed door. His incessant knocking must have roused you. 

You groaned, blinking at the assault of the sunlight in your eyes. “I am now!”

You checked your phone. It was 15 minutes to 10 in the morning. 

“Breakfast? Everyone’s already downstairs,” he announced. 

“Yeah, yeah, give me ten minutes to get ready,” you told him. You saw the shadow underneath the door disappear. You stared at your ceiling, thinking whether it’d be awkward between you and Dick. 

You were dreading breakfast already. 

At the dining table, you saw your foster family already seated and eating the pancakes Alfred made. Bruce was reading the paper while sipping on his coffee. You sat down in between Tim and Bruce, directly opposite of Jason. Dick was next to him, and Damian next to Dick. 

They looked normal, besides everyone being exceptionally good looking. Money does buy a lot of things, including beauty. No one would suspect that the five sitting down at the table, bickering with each other, were all vigilantes of various background.

You were taken in as Bruce’s ward 6 years ago, after your parents passed away in a car crash. Your father was Bruce’s best friend, and had named Bruce your godfather when you were born. You were still underaged when they died, and didn’t have any other family left. Your father left a will appointing Bruce your legal guardian if anything were to happen. 

You’ve been an adult for a while now, but Bruce still wished to take care of you, even paying for your art degree. He looked at you as his own daughter, and you looked at him like a father. Being the odd one out, you never got into that vigilante life. 

You knew of them from the very beginning, since you grew up with Dick. He kept no secrets from you, and Bruce trusted you like it was your own secret to keep. 

“Good morning,” you yawned while reaching for the pancakes. 

“Morning,” mumbled the rest. 

Once you were digging happily into your breakfast, you noticed Jason frowning at you. He was wearing a white shirt crumpled from sleep. His hair was messy, his lower lip jutting out in a cute pout that made you want to suck on-

“Wha?” you asked with your mouth stuffed, used to the inappropriate thoughts you had about him.

“You left early last night,” he stated. You didn’t miss how Dick suddenly tuned into your conversation. 

“Was sleepy and tired,” you shrugged, avoiding eye contact. 

“You could have at least told me you were leaving,” Jason reprimanded you. His almost permanent frown knitted even more tightly together than usual. 

“Well, I saw that you were occupied,” you finally looked directly into his eyes, and then smiled, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

He grit his jaw. 

“Where were you guys?” Tim interrupted. 

“A bar,” you casually answered, “I met Jason there after meeting with the gallery owner.”

“For your exhibition?” Damian asked. 

“Mhmm,” you nodded, “They said they liked my art, but they’ll call me to confirm.”

“That’s great!” Tim applauded, “I hope you get some spots.”

“Thanks, me too,” you beamed. 

“So the two of you met at a bar?” Dick interrogated.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. 

“What’s it to you?” Jason suddenly said aggressively. 

“If you two planned to meet, why did she leave early?” Dick continued. 

You exchanged a fleeting moment’s eye contact with Jason before turning to Dick, “I already said I was tired, Dick.”

“And what was Jason so occupied with that you didn’t tell him you were leaving?” he questioned. 

An awkward silence filled the table. Jason was now picking at the leftovers on his plate. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Bruce’s very small, barely noticeable smirk. He was obviously amused by your exchange. 

“He was with a girl,” you decided to answer. 

You saw the gears in Dick’s head click, the way he frowned, how his eyes came to the realisation. 

You thought he looked a bit frustrated, and sad. 

He then turned to Jason. “You left her alone for a girl? _After_ already planning to meet up?”

“In his defense, we had an argument,” you explained. You had said a few harsh words to Jason that made him leave. But you wouldn’t have had to say those things if he wasn’t being an asshole in the first place. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tim interjected, “Jason was with a _girl_?”

“I agree with Drake’s surprise,” Damian added, “That is a peculiar behavior for Todd’s standards.”

You felt a squeeze in your heart. 

“It’s none of your business who I was with,” Jason growled.

“Jason,” Dick _snarled_. You were taken aback that he would get angry over this, but you weren’t particularly shocked that Dick could get that way. 

He was the eldest, after all. He had some sort of unspoken authority, and everyone silently respected him. He could boss all the younger boys around, though he was usually met with resistance from Jason. 

“Why would you leave her alone at a bar?” he demanded. Jason was still playing with his leftovers.

“It’s fine, Dick,” you tried to calm him down, “I got back okay. And I really was tired.”

“No, he’s right,” Jason conceded, now looking at you with his blue eyes, anger gone. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I forgive you,” you hurriedly accepted, “There. Can we move on from this, please?”

“Yeah, like, did you go home with her?” Tim snickered. 

You really didn’t want to know, but Jason’s lack of answer confirmed it. 

“Holy shit, you did!” Tim exclaimed.

You catched Dick’s gaze. 

Fuck, he was looking at you with pity. 

“Nothing happened,” Jason huffed, “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“I agree, I do not wish to listen to Todd’s sexual habits,” Damian grimaced. 

“Shut up, brat!” Jason shot at him. 

“I was agreeing with you!” Damian argued back. 

Bruce cleared his throat, stopping the aggressive verbal exchange before it could escalate, “All of you bring the dishes to the back so Alfred doesn’t have to.”

There was a chorus of mumbled agreement from the table. After breakfast, you decided to paint. 

Your zone was in your room, near the window where the natural light could pour onto the canvas. You were seated on a stool in front of the easel. You put on your headphones, blocking out the outside world as you stared at the empty canvas. 

Tchaikovsky always somehow made you paint with bright pretty colors, usually with smiling faces or fantastical scenery- but you found that happiness in art was boring, and you weren’t feeling particularly joyful that day, least of all the _dainty_ embodiment of Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, especially after the steaming hot session with Dick the previous night. 

So you opted for Debussy. Clair De Lune made you feel more solemn and sombre. You closed your eyes and thought back to the scene at the bar and focused on the guilt you felt when Jason clenched his jaw and glared at you before abruptly leaving you at the table and going to the bar, gritting “I need a drink.”

The shame, embarrassment, the lump that you felt obstructed your throat when you saw him wrap an arm around a girl’s waist as he leaned on to the bar, whispering to her. 

How the sight made the blood rush to your ears, drowning out the sound of music and obnoxious drunken laughs with your heartbeat. 

She had looked like you- sort of. She had the same color hair, though yours were shorter. She had the same body type- you were more toned while she was curvier. Your facial features were almost the same, except hers was more defined with her expert use of makeup. She was wearing stylish clothes that clung to her body tastefully and accentuated her assets, with perfectly manicured nails that was caressing the fabric of Jason’s leather jacket. 

Your chest was tight, and tears were brimming your eyes when you left the bar. 

You opened your eyes and chose your palette. An array of dark blues and purples, black, with many shades of gray, so you started painting. 

You were lost in your own thoughts for a couple of hours, the sun outside was at its peak in the very rare hot Gotham afternoon. 

You were going to make a long brush stroke when you felt something at the crook of your neck, making you jolt in surprise. You tore off your headphones. 

“Did I scare you?” Dick’s warm breath fanned your skin. He was bent down, pressing light kisses on your neck, shoulders and back. 

“What are you doing, Dick?” you sighed, exposing your neck to give him more access. 

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he whispered. 

“So are you at my disposal or is it the other way round now?” you smirked. 

You felt him grin against your skin. He then straightened up and went to sit on the edge of your bed, facing you. 

“So, Jason, huh?” he flopped down, bouncing on the mattress. 

You put your brush and palette down to face him, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m kind of… frustrated,” he told you. 

“Why?” you asked, “You knew I liked someone.”

“The fact that it’s my brother- well,” he started, “It changes everything.”

You just stared at him, his piercing gaze unsettling you, unsure of what to say. 

“So tell me what happened last night,” he broke the silence. 

“You already have the gist of it,” you said hesitantly. 

“I know, but I want to hear the whole story,” he insisted. 

You chewed on your lips. 

“Fine,” you conceded, “He called me and asked where I was. I said I was already leaving the gallery. He told me to meet him at this bar in Diamond District, since I was close by. So I said yes, and we reached the place at the same time. We met each other at the parking lot and then head inside, but as we were going in, I saw a friend come out.”

“Who?”

“Nick, I met him at an exhibition a couple of months before,” you explained, “So he greeted me, gave me a friendly hug and kiss-”

“A friendly _kiss_?” Dick interjected, smirking.

“He’s European,” you clarified, eyes narrowing at his insinuation, “It was just a peck on the cheek- friendly stuff. Anyway, that was that. We went in. Then Jason started to get all pissy. He was like ‘I didn’t know you were into snotty pricks like him’ - which was totally uncalled for! I told him that Nikolai was a nice guy and he shouldn’t judge people before getting to know them. But then he kept going on and on about my _standards_.”

“Standards?”

“Yeah, like,” you elaborated, “‘I didn’t think your standards were that low’.”

Dick let out a low whistle. 

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “At that time we were already seated. And _God_, he wouldn’t shut up about my standards and my apparently bad taste in men, blahblahblah. So, I, uh, said something pretty harsh back.”

“Uh oh,” Dick widen his eyes, “I know how snarky you can be. What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Jason, you may think my standards are low, but it would never stoop so low that I’d go out with someone like you’,” you cringed at yourself. 

“Yikes,” Dick chuckled, “You always had a sharp bite, huh?”

“I mean,” you tried to defend yourself, “He was asking for it.”

“He was,” Dick agreed, “But you know how he is. When you said ‘someone like you’, it must have triggered something along the lines of his usual ‘I’m not a good person, I’ve done bad things’ schtick.”

“I know,” you groaned, “I felt bad. The way he was glaring at me, holy shit, if only looks could kill.”

“So is that when he left?”

“Yeah, he said he needed a drink, so he went to the bar. Next thing I knew, he…” you took a deep breath, “He had a girl in his arms. A pretty girl. Flirting with her. He doesn’t usually do that, you know? Which was why it was relatively easy for me to keep it in all these years. But seeing him like that, well. It upset me.”

Dick digested your story. You waited for him to answer. 

“Well, from what you told me,” he concluded, “It sounds like he was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you shrilled, “No way. He doesn’t like me. My guess was that he was being an overprotective little shit.”

“But people are usually overprotective over the people they like. Isn’t that a response to or a form of jealousy?” he suggested. 

“Dick, you looked like you wanted to strangle him when you found out that he left me alone,” you reminded him, “Doesn’t mean you were jealous or in _love_ with me.”

“Maybe,” Dick entertained, “But I still think he was jealous, so he acted out by flirting with another girl.”

“But why would he act out that way?” you argued. “He didn’t know that it would hurt me. He doesn’t know that I’ve been in love with him since forever.”

“You’re right, maybe he didn’t do it to hurt you,” he pondered, “Maybe he was just trying to distract himself, like how _someone_ tried to do with me?”

“Oh, shut up, you liked it,” you grinned.

“I did,” he smirked, “A lot. Too much, in fact. I want to do it again. And again.”

His expression went darker, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

Dick was hot, sexy, whatever you wanted to call it. You would be lying if you said that you never thought of Dick, your best friend, that way. Especially since the two of you practically grew up together, with your parents being Bruce’s best friend, and Dick being Bruce’s first. 

You loved Dick, but ultimately, it was Jason who stole your heart. 

“You’re just horny, Dick,” you laughed. 

“And you’re not?” he asked back, “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy last night?”

“What happened last night?”

The both of you snapped your heads toward the door- which Dick had left open. Jason was standing there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

“Were you listening in?” you shrieked. 

“No,” he frowned, “Was just passing by, going to my room. Heard you guys talking. What happened last night?”

“Nothing,” you answered a little too quickly, “Dick was asking if I enjoyed drinks last night, and I was just going to tell him I didn’t _have_ any drinks last night.”

“I said I was sorry,” he pouted again. 

Your expression softened. “I know. And I said it was fine.”

An awkward silence filled the room, as he just looked at you like he was figuring out what to say. 

“So…” you slowly began, “Next time, could you, like, knock?”

He didn’t reply immediately, but just started to flicker his gaze between you and Dick. Then, with a scowl, he let out a mumbled “Whatever” and left. 

You got up and closed the door, locking it behind you. You glared at Dick, your arms crossed. 

“Whoops?” he grimaced. 

“Forgetting to close the door is not a very Nightwing thing to do,” you scolded. 

“Well, I’m not Nightwing right now,” he shrugged, giving you an annoyingly smug grin, “But I gotta say, I’m quite curious to see how he would react if he knew we slept together.”

“Don’t. You. Dare,” you growled. 

“Relax, I’m not gonna say anything,” he raised his hands in surrender. “Mainly because you won’t sleep with me again if I did.”

He gave you his best puppy dog eyes. 

“You’re such a horny bastard!” you laughed out loud and pounced at him to tickle his sides. He grabbed your arms before you could reach him, and then wrestled you down, pinning you against the bed with your hands over your head and his body weight ensuring you stay in place below him. 

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he kissed the tip of your nose. 

“That’s what a boyfriend would say,” you narrowed your eyes. 

“But it is also what Dick Grayson would say to his super sexy best friend who rocked his night,” he countered, “I may not be your boyfriend, nor am I in love with you, but I still care, you know? I won’t hurt you. So as long as you’re still interested in our… arrangement, this cock-”

He paused to roll his hips against yours, eliciting a soft moan from you when you felt a flicker of heat between your legs. 

“- is only yours.”

Your heart swelled at how thoughtful he was being. He wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible with your new and unorthodox relationship. He didn’t owe you that kind of exclusivity, nor should he be obligated to offer it to you, yet there he was, doing the most Dick Grayson thing ever. 

“Thank you, Dick,” you breathed. 

“What are best friends for, right?” he winked. 

“Oh, just get off me, you idiot,” you held back a smile, “It’s in the middle of the day.”

He climbed off you and collapsed onto his back next to you.

“Oh, so we’re limiting our steamy sessions to night time? I guess I can work with that,” he teased. 

You shook your head, ignoring his jest. 

“Do you think he heard us?” you worried. 

“He didn’t,” Dick simply stated. 

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” he scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’m the second best detective in this house!”

“Not Tim?” you prodded. 

He gasped exaggeratedly. “I am _so_ offended.”

“I feel like he can read my mind sometimes, you know?”

“I’m leaving,” he got up and dashed to the door, “I will not take any more of this insult!”

He slammed the door shut. In the distance, you heard him shout, “I will not!”

“Drama queen,” you muttered under your breath and went back to your easel. 

***

To say that Dick was clingy would be an understatement. 

You didn’t sleep with him again after the first time as his nights were busy with patrol and got back home too late each time. 

But during the days, though he acted relatively the same way as he did before, he added more flirty winks, and subtle touches. It got to your nerves at one point because he would shamelessly do it even when everyone else was around. 

Of course, he wasn’t being blatantly _obvious_, but being in a home full of well-trained vigilantes- it made you paranoid. 

It was a Saturday evening, and you were sketching out a scene in your book when you heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s open,” you announced before slamming your sketchbook shut, away from prying eyes. 

“Hey,” you saw Jason peek in, “You busy?”

“No,” you replied, “What’s up?”

“Was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner before I go off for patrol tonight?” he asked, shifting his feet. “My treat.”

“Sure!” your face lit up, “Anything for free food.”

You heard him chuckle, your heart melting at the sound. Your relationship with him became a bit strained because of what happened the previous weekend. 

He took you on his bike that night, and even though you’ve been the passenger on his motorcycle countless of times, the close contact still made your heart flutter. 

You could feel the hardness of his body as you clutched onto his leather jacket for support. You could smell him- a musky cologne and a very faint smokey scent. You couldn’t see much of the road in front of you because his broad shoulders was blocking the view. 

He took you on his bike to a small italian restaurant in Little Italy It was nothing fancy, but you preferred an authentic restaurant with a homemade feel, small tables, and warm lights. You sat at a small table for two, and ordered. 

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to eat that much right before patrol?” you raised an eyebrow. 

He had taken off his jacket, and was wearing a simple black t-shirt with jeans. His hair was messy from the helmet, and his cheeks, nose and ears were slightly red from the cold ride there. 

“I gotta have the energy to kick some ass, princess,” he grinned. 

“You ordered a whole lasagna and a plate of pasta,” you giggled, “And I’m sure you’re gonna wanna get dessert as well.”

“Hey, I like my food, alright?” he huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Well, I can’t really say much to that,” you admitted, “Is this a way to make up to me or something? ‘Coz getting to my heart through my stomach is clever. You know I’m as weak as you are when it comes to food.”

“And I kept that in mind,” he winked, making your stomach flip. His winks always got to you. 

“You’re totally, wholeheartedly forgiven then,” you reassured. 

“Good,” he nodded, “But, uh, yeah, like I said. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved in effort to keep the awkwardness away. 

“But actually, I wanted to ask you something as well,” he started. 

“Ask away,” you shrugged. 

He paused, allowing the waitress to set your drinks down. You started slowly sipping on your coke. 

“Are you and Dick together?”

You almost sprayed your drink everywhere. 

“W-what?” you sputtered in a fit of hacking coughs. 

“I dunno, he’s been acting weird around you lately,” he played with his straw, avoiding eye contact. 

“No way in hell!” you denied. You took a deep breath to calm down before you explained. “Look, I can see why you think so. Lately, he’s been annoying, you know? Flirts more than usual. But that’s just how Dick is. He flirts without even realising it. He’s probably just bored whenever he does it.”

“So you’re not together?” he reconfirmed. 

“No, Jay,” you insisted, “We’re best friends. That’s it.”

“I see,” he let out a sigh, “Good.”

“You seemed relieved,” you teased, “You jealous, Jay?”

You played with the idea in your head, but it was mostly wishful thinking. 

“No,” he replied quickly, “I’m relieved because it’s weird, you know? The two of you. You guys were always there when I was growing up. It’d just be weird, alright? Like if my sister was dating my best friend or something.”

He leaned back onto his chair and looked away. 

“So am I your best friend or your sister?” you jibed. 

“Best friend,” he looked at you. And with a grin, he added, “Dick’s my sister.”

You laughed. On the bright side, at least he didn’t see you as a sister. 

Your food arrived. You were smirking at the large portion Jason was devouring immediately. 

“I miss talking to you, Jay,” you smiled, “I like this.”

“Me too, princess,” his eyes softened. 

Dick called everyone sweetheart, or darling. But Jason? Jason only called you ‘Princess’. It was _his_ thing that started so long ago, when he was still Robin. 

Though you were closer to Dick because he was there first, you were the same age as Jason. Thus, you were in the same grade, watched the same shows, listened to the same music- though the latter was purely coincidental and did not have anything to do with your age. It was just easier for you to relate to him. 

You were a rebellious teen back then. You snuck out of your parents’ house frequently to hang out with your friends in shady places. One night, at 15 years old, you were walking back to your house around two in the morning. 

You only realised too late that you were being followed by 3 men when one of them grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway. 

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out this late, you know?” one of them pushed you against the wall. 

You had never wished so hard that you were like Dick, capable of defending yourself. 

“I have money,” you had started to beg, “Please, I’ll give you anything. Just don’t hurt me.”

“We want more than just money, baby,” another guy said. 

“Please, don’t,” you pleaded, tears spilling down from your eyes. You were shaking in fear, frozen to your spot, not knowing what to do. 

“The more you beg, the more you turn me on,” one of them replied, coming closer to you. He gripped your hair painfully to keep your head in place as he leaned in to force a kiss on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the worst that was yet to come. Suddenly, the pain disappeared. You opened your eyes and saw Robin smashing the head of the guy who was nearest to you against the wall. 

He then proceeded to almost effortlessly knock out the other two. 

He looked at you through his white lens. 

“Jason?” you whispered. 

“Are you okay?” he rushed to you. 

You flung yourself into his arms, tears of relief now brimming your eyes instead of fear. 

“I was so scared,” you sobbed into his armor covered chest. 

“I know. It’s okay, I’m right here,” he patted your head, other arm wrapped around your waist and squeezing you tightly. “What are you doing out so late?”

“Being stupid,” you grimaced, before panicking. “Please don’t tell Dick! He’d kill me! Please, Jason, please.”

You stared at him now with wide eyes, seeing his expression softening and a small smile at his lips. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. This will be our little secret,” he assured you, “Just promise me you won’t go out this late again. At least, not alone. It’s dangerous. You know that.”

“I promise,” you sniffled, “Thank you, Jason. For saving me. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

“So that makes you my princess, right?” he grinned. 

You giggled then, but your heart suddenly started beating faster, and not because of the fear or adrenaline. You hid your blushing face into his chest so he couldn’t see how flustered he made you. 

From then on, he called you ‘Princess’. It was a term of endearment brought by a small little secret only the two of you shared. 

You didn’t realise that you were already in love with him. Not until he died 6 months later, and you were left with a hole in your chest. To make things worse, your parents also died around the same time. 

“You okay?” your current Jason broke you out of your daze and back to the present. 

“Yeah,” you smiled at the memory, “Remember that time you saved me from those assholes? In that alley?”

“You were stupid to go out that late alone,” he grumbled. 

“Yes, and I swear, since then I have been on my best behavior,” you rolled your eyes, “You never told Dick, right?”

“Of course not,” he scowled, “I promised you didn’t I?”

Fuck, he looked so cute pouting and grumbling the way he did- because he may looked upset, but he was still finishing up his lasagna. 

“Yeah, you did,” you hummed, “Anyway, shouldn’t we be leaving soon? You have patrol.”

“I ain’t leavin’ without my damned dessert!”

*** 

That night, you decided to stay up late painting a piece. Your aim was to have your own solo exhibition by the end of the year, so you needed to work hard. 

It was around four in the morning when you heard a soft knock on your door. 

“It’s me,” you heard Dick’s muffled voice. 

You set your brush down and unlocked the door for him. 

He was still in his Nightwing uniform, sweaty and slightly dirty. He stepped in, and you made it a point to lock the door behind him. 

“All of you just got back?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he stood in front of you, “Was going back to my room, but then I saw your lights were still on. Speaking of-”

He reached to the switch and turned off the lights. 

“Dick- what-” 

“At least they’d think you were asleep and wouldn’t come knocking,” he explained. The sudden shift to darkness blinded you. You slowly walked to your bedside table and switched on a night light. Now it was bright enough for you to make out Dick in the darkness, yet dark enough for people to think you were sleeping. 

“Everyone got back okay? Anything interesting happen?” you sat on your bed, motioning Dick to join you. 

“Nah,” he said, “Slow night. Just a couple of scrapes and bruises. Though, Jason got it pretty bad tonight.” 

“What?” you panicked, “Is he okay? What happened?” 

“Relax, nothing serious,” he chuckled, “The love of your life just started puking into a dumpster after grappling.” 

And almost like they rehearsed it, you heard a couple of bickering voices outside your room. 

“-can't believe you got puke in your helmet,” you heard Tim say. 

“Shut the fuck up about it already,” Jason growled. “And quiet down, she’s gonna wake up.” 

“She’d love to hear about this, though,” Tim whispered.

“Disgusting, Todd,” Damian commented, “Disgraceful to the Robin legacy. Utterly idiotic-” 

“I said shut the fuck up!” he yelled. You heard a loud door slam. 

“You're the one who said she'd wake up,” Tim chortled. 

“... honestly… to think… low intelligence…” 

“... can't wait… tell her…” 

The voices faded away, and ended with the sound of doors being closed shut. 

You looked at Dick and burst into giggles. 

“I told him that eating so much wasn't a good idea,” you gasped in between laughter. “God, he's such an idiot.” 

“How much did he eat?” 

“A huge slice of lasagna, a plate of carbonara, and two scoops of ice cream,” you listed down, “All super creamy, super heavy.” 

“He is an idiot,” Dick laughed, “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did,” you smiled, “Oh, he asked if we were together.” 

“You and me?” 

“Yes, you and me,” you scolded “And it's all your fault, too. You were being way too obvious with the whole… You thing.” 

“Me thing?” he smirked. 

“Yeah, you thing,” you huffed, “I told him there was nothing going on between us.” 

“Which is technically the truth,” he added. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Just ease up on the whole flirty stuff, will you?”

“I can’t help it,” he groaned, collapsing onto his back. 

His blue and black uniform stuck to him like second skin, accentuating the contours of his muscles that was casting beautiful shadows onto his body due to the dim light. Your eyes trailed down from his face to his abs to his crotch, your tongue subconsciously darting out to wet your lips. 

“Like what you see?” he snickered. 

“Me and every other girl in Gotham,” you rolled your eyes. 

In a flash, he had shot straight up and pounced on top of you, pinning you down on the bed with his body. 

“You’ve fantasized about Nightwing?” he whispered against your lips. 

“Of course I have,” you pouted, “I mean, it’s _Nightwing_. All girls do.”

“But you,” he set his arm on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles that you could feel through your thin tank top, “Must have fantasized more about Red Hood, right?”

“Jason was dead for two years,” you reminded him, “At that time, though I was still in love with him, Nightwing was the main attraction.”

“But what about now?” he started to kiss your neck. 

“I guess now it’s mostly Red Hood,” you admitted. 

He drew back to look at you in the eye, a cheeky grin playing onto his face, “I could steal his helmet if you like. Wash the puke out first, of course. A little roleplay to spice things up?”

“That’s so fucked up, Dick!” you laughed, “I can’t fuck you while pretending it’s your brother.”

“Hmm, why not?” he hummed and started nibbling at your ear lobe. “I could pretend to be him. What does he always call you, again?”

“Princess?” 

“Ah, yes. _You wanna play with me, princess?_” he grazed your ear.

You gasped. Dick had impersonated Jason’s voice so well. He nailed Jason’s husky and low sound, and flawlessly imitated his subtle yet still noticeable Bowery accent down to the last syllable. 

It made your pussy clench. 

“That- that was-” you stuttered, that simple action made you a blushing sputtering mess.

“On point?” he grinned. 

“That would be an understatement,” you praised, “Shit, I didn’t know you could do that so well.”

“Alfred would be pleased,” he chuckled lowly, “Though, I’m sure he’d disapprove of the skill being used in this context.”

“It’s fucked up, Dick,” you repeated, though you wanted it so badly. 

“_You want me to fuck you, princess?_” he purred, “_You want my cock?_”

He slipped his hand between your legs to cup your covered sex. 

“Dick,” you whined, “Stop it. It’s turning me on more than you think. I feel like he’s actually saying those things to me.”

“That’s the idea, sweetheart,” he teased, “_I can make you feel so good, baby_.”

You groaned when his hands slipped underneath your shorts, immediately running a finger up and down your wet folds, the odd yet pleasurable sensation of his textured gloved hands making you squirm. You spread your legs wider to give him more access. 

“_So wet and ready for me_,” he drawled, “Close your eyes, sweetheart. Close your eyes and imagine him.”

“I- I shouldn’t,” you breathed, “I can’t do that to you.”

“I don’t mind,” he insisted, “I just want to get you off. I like seeing you like this. I like turning you on.”

He slipped a finger inside your opening and immediately curled it upwards, hitting your sweet spot, eliciting a desperate moan from you. 

“_Come on, princess. Play with me._”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he inserted a second finger easily, pumping in and out of you at a pace that made your breath hitch. 

“Ja- Dick,” you caught yourself mid-moan. 

“It’s okay to indulge, sweetheart,” you felt him whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling you, “Go on. _I want to hear you say my name._”

“Jason,” you dared a small whine, giving in to your fantasies. 

“_That’s it, baby_,” he encouraged, his fingers now making squelching sounds. 

You were really indulging yourself, that's for sure. You imagined that it was Jason who was panting in your ear, that it was Jason's thick fingers inside you and making you feel good, that it was Jason’s weight against your body, that it was Jason's erection you were gently massaging through the sturdy yet thin material of Nightwing’s suit- however unrealistic it was.

“Mmm, Jason,” you sighed louder, the heat you felt even more intense than you usually did. 

“_So fucking sexy, princess. Your pussy feels so good around my fingers_.”

Hell, even you felt your walls tighten around him when he said that. 

“_So hot_,” he groaned, “_I want to see you come. You want me to make you come?_”

“Yes, Jason, please,” you whined, your head thrashing about. Then, he curled his fingers upwards and started massaging your deep spot, making a new wave of sensation appear. He was relentless in his pace, almost forcing the orgasm from you. 

You were a moaning mess, unsure of what was real and what wasn’t. 

“_Yeah, yeah, that’s it, baby_,” he purred, “_Come for me right now, princess._”

The building heat you usually felt was absent that night. Instead, it was like an explosion. Barrages of white, hot, pleasure filled your entire being, that you weren’t aware how loud you were screaming. 

“Fuck, fuck, JASON!”

You felt a hand clamp down on your mouth as you slowly came back to reality. You opened your eyes to see Dick’s wide stare. He was still slowly pumping in and out of you, grounding you after your intense orgasm. 

You could hear your own breathing- loud and ragged. 

“Shit,” Dick chuckled, “Wow, do I need to see you come like that again.”

He slid out his fingers from you carefully. 

“Kiss me, Dick,” you sighed. 

He reached for to cup your face, his lips mere inches away from yours until-

You heard frantic knocking on the door. 

“Hey, you okay in there?” you heard Jason’s muffled yells. 

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath looking at Dick with panic, “Shit, shit, shit. Hide in my bathroom, quick!”

Dick dashed to your bathroom and you hurriedly put on a robe. 

“Princess, you okay?” he continued, “I heard you shouting.”

“Just a second!” you yelled back, tripping over your chair in the process of getting to the door. 

“Hey,” you opened, meeting a clean Jason with wet hair and a white t-shirt along with a worried look on his face. 

“You okay?” he asked again, “I heard you calling for me. I thought you were in trouble.”

“I had a bad dream,” you lied, “I must have shouted your name. False alarm. Sorry.”

You weren’t really a good liar- especially since everyone else were good lie detectors. But you tried and sometimes you could get away with it. 

Now you were praying to whatever deity was up there that it was one of those times. 

“Oh,” Jason frowned, “Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smiled, “I’ll try to go back to bed after this.”

“Hey,” he reached out to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m here, okay? If you want me to hang around until you sleep, just say the word.”

You felt yourself start to blush furiously at his action, your stomach doing flips again. 

“I-it’s okay,” you sputtered. “I’ll be fine. Really. But thank you, Jason.”

He pursed his lips, just staring at you for a moment. And then-

“Come here,” he mumbled and then pulled you into his arms, engulfing you with his warmth. 

“I used to have nightmares too,” he whispered into your ear, “And during the rare times my mom was actually sober, she’d just hug me like this, and everything felt alright again.”

You were taken aback by his words. Jason hardly ever talked about his parents. Your guilt started eating at you when you realised that he only shared this with you because he thought you were scared, yet you couldn’t help but to lean into him, welcoming his contact. 

You breathed in his scent- his shampoo and shower gel smelled like fresh tropical fruit. You could also smell a faint lingering minty scent of his toothpaste. 

You just wanted to melt into him. 

But then, he stepped away from you to end the hug. 

“Just text me if you need anything, alright?” he looked at you intensely. 

“Okay,” you nodded. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he winked and turned around to go back to his room. 

“Goodnight, Jay,” you sighed after him, wishing nothing more but to pull him back to you. 

You watched him close the door to his room- which was down the hall to yours- before you closed your door and leaned against it with your eyes closed, trying to burn the memory into your brain. 

“That was so cute,” a voice said. 

You jumped ever so slightly and saw Dick smirking at you in front of your bathroom door. You had completely forgotten that he was still there. 

“Shut up,” you scowled, walking towards him, “That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“Yet hot as fuck,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him by the hips. “Now I’m _definitely_ going to steal his helmet.”

“Don’t even,” you groaned, resting your arms on his shoulders, “So embarrassing.”

“It was hot, and cute,” he insisted, grinning. “I should head back.”

“But, uh, you haven’t, I mean I haven’t helped you, uh, you know,” you awkwardly implied. 

“It’s okay,” he assured you, “That scare kinda ruined my boner. Plus, like I said, I enjoy just watching you.”

“You sure?” you pouted, “I don’t mind helping you out.”

“I’m sure,” he kissed you on the nose, “It’s getting late, too. You should sleep.”

“Okay, then,” you stepped away from him and watched him head towards the door. “Goodnight, Dick.”

“_Goodnight, princess_,” he grinned and ran silently to his room before you could even react to his teasing. 

*** 

It had already been a month since you and Dick started sleeping together. It was fun, and you enjoyed it a lot, but you felt like the more you tried to distract yourself with Dick, the more you couldn’t get Jason out of your mind. 

And every little thing that Jason did affected you more than it should. From the way he drank his bottled water, to the way his left eye twitched and his jaw clench whenever Damian said something insulting. Everything he did made you want him. 

So you used Dick to distract yourself and the cycle continued. 

Dick was also using you, because Dick was a horny bastard and he liked sleeping with you. _ A lot_. 

Every chance he got. 

But then one day when Dick and you were lounging by the pool, Jason approached you. 

“Hey, uh, you free tonight?” he asked you. 

His eye contact was in a frenzy- avoiding yours- and he was ruffling the hair at the back of his head. He looked almost nervous. 

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, “Why?”

“Thought that we could spend some time together,” he shrugged, “Watch some thrillers or something. In your room? Or mine. I don’t care. Whichever you prefer.”

“Sure!” you agreed almost too happily. 

“Yeah?” he grinned, “Okay, then. I gotta meet Roy now but I’ll be back by 8? I’ll get us some pizza.”

“Pepperoni, extra cheese, please,” you ordered. 

“As if I don’t know,” he rolled his eyes and headed out. 

You tried to contain your excitement in front of Dick, unsuccessfully. 

“Well that just made your whole week, huh?” he chuckled, getting up from his pool chair to sit on the edge of yours. 

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the ribs. 

“I guess this is it, then,” he suddenly sighed. 

You frowned at his shifted mood. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Well, I’m guessing after this, our little arrangement would end.”

“Why?”

Dick looked at you with a sad smile, “Just a feeling.”

“You’re being weird,” you pointed out, “But you know, even if we decide to end this, we’re still best friends, right? No hard feelings?”

“Of course not,” he stated, “We’ll always be best friends. No matter what.”

“Good,” you breathed a sigh of relief. 

Dick leaned closer to you, his hand cupping your face. 

“I want one last kiss,” he pleaded with his puppy dog eyes. 

“It wouldn’t be our last, Dick,” you rolled your eyes, still allowing him to come closer to you. 

“I hope not,” he barely whispered, and then pressed his soft,.familiar lips against yours for a deep, slow kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it desperate. Neither of you were panting in lust and a need to take off each other’s clothes.

It simply was a sensual kiss between two friends. 

You were the first to break it off. 

“We’re out in the open,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, getting up and going back to his pool chair, “You don’t have to worry about that any more.”

You were going to say something about how stupid he was being, but decided against it. All you needed to do was let him see for himself that nothing was going to happen. 

That evening, you were just hanging out in the living room with everyone while waiting for Jason to come back. Tim was telling you about how Jason went from trying to show off his new move- somersaulting down from a tall building to immediately grappling to a lower rise building and landing like a superhero- to retching out half his stomach contents into his helmet, hurriedly run to a dumpster in an alley in which he shoved a lone man aside just to hurl the rest of his food. 

The man turned out to be a drug dealer. Jason’s violent push had made him drop 2 kilogrammes of cocaine from his jacket. Jason had called it a win. 

“What’s so funny?”

All of you snapped your heads in the direction of the voice. Jason who had just arrived, had his eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

The coincidence made all of you start laughing again, right after trying hard to stop. 

Once you regained your composure, you got up, while wiping your tears. 

“Come on, Carbonaraticus Regurgitus,” you teased, taking the hot pizza boxes from him and leading the way to your room. 

“I fucking told you guys not to tell her!” you heard him yell at the back. 

You giggled to yourself and made your way to the room, leaving the door open for Jason who was probably attacking Tim before coming to you as planned. 

You had already set up your laptop on the bed to a thriller on Netflix when Jason finally came in, red faced and pouting. 

“He-”

“It wasn’t that bad, and I did _not_ get puke in my helmet,” he stated before you could even get a word in. 

You stifled a laugh. “Okay. I was going to say ‘Hey, is Seven okay?’. But if you insist on talking about that, I don’t mind.”

“Seven’s fine,” he grumbled before comically adding, “What’s in the booox?”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” he defended, taking off his jacket and hopping onto your bed to sit next to you, “Love me some Brad Pitt.”

The two of you ate your pizzas while watching the movie. The both of you were leaning back against a pile of pillows, legs stretched out. You balanced the laptop on your right thigh and Jason’s left, meaning that your right side was in close contact with his left. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling every time he accidentally said a line from the movie and apologizing after. Somewhere along the movie, he stretched out his left arm behind your head. Your mind was racing, and you couldn’t concentrate much on the movie. 

Next thing you knew, the movie ended, and he suggested The Usual Suspects. Jason loved his thrillers, and loved rewatching the classics. 

“Oh, but uh, before that,” he stopped you from clicking play. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What about?”

“Your art, actually,” he said. 

“What about my art?”

“The ones in those black books, are those for the galleries?” he asked. 

“Well, no. I mean, I have one sketchbook where I draw serious stuff. Portraits, illustrations, sceneries. That’s the one I submit to my professors,” you explained. 

“Oh, but you have more than one?”

“Yeah, I always have three in total. One’s for school, one’s for practice, and one… is like my diary.”

“Your diary?” he looked at you in curiosity. 

You were close, but not too close. It was only a comfortable and friendly distance, but you couldn’t stop yourself from occasionally looking at his lips before snapping your eyes back to his. 

“Yeah. My art is usually a result of my emotions. The last book I have is filled with drawings when I’m feeling sad or happy, or whatever. But more personal, you know? Stuff I don’t share with the world,” you finished. 

“I see,” he frowned, deep in thought, “You don’t usually show it the world, huh?”

“Nope. Completely private.”

“Then you shouldn’t be so careless about leaving it open on your desk,” he stated as a matter of factly. 

“What?”

“I assume the book with the drawing of me at the bar with the girl is the diary one, right?” he brought up casually.

Your mind was blank. “What?” you repeated. 

“I didn’t go through your stuff, or anything. I was just looking for you yesterday in your room, and I saw the book on your desk. It was already opened to that page…”

Shit. 

Fuck. 

You were so careless. 

You had drawn the scene a couple of weeks ago, because you wanted to channel the sadness, anger, and jealousy into _something_. 

“... were you jealous?”

“What?” you said for the third time. You had missed a portion of what he was saying. 

“I mean, if you drew something like that,” he continued, “Is that why you left? Because I hurt you?”

You faced the laptop, tears burning your eyes at the thought of almost a decade of friendship being tossed into the drain because of your carelessness. 

He was silent for a moment. And then- 

“You made me jealous first, though,” he mumbled so softly, you barely caught it. 

“What are you talking about?” you whispered. 

“With that fucking _Nikolai_,” he huffed. You swore you could hear the pout. 

“Nick- what?” you decided to look at him. 

He was staring at the paused computer screen, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together, and of course- pouting. 

“Yeah, him and his accent, and his stupid kiss, and his stupid hair,” he grumbled. 

“Hair?” you smiled.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Or what you thought was happening. 

“All wavy and golden,” he continued, “It would have made anyone jealous. That’s why I said all those hurtful things to you. It doesn’t justify it, but it just triggered me, okay?”

“So does that mean,” you smiled wider, “That you have feelings for me?”

“Duh,” he rolled his eyes, still avoiding contact with yours. 

“Really? You’re not just saying that out of pity?”

He then looked at you incredulously. “Pity? No! Fuck you, I’ve been in love with you since forever.”

“How long?” you questioned, your heart thumping at his confession. 

“I don’t know,” he looked away again, “Since I got back? Before I died? I don’t know okay? I’ve just always been drawn to you or some shit.”

You didn’t know what to say.

You were just so unbelievably ecstatic, that you were speechless. 

“What about you?” he asked, “You like me too, right? Coz if you don’t, it means I’ve made a complete fool outta myself, and I’ll just go and crawl back into my coffin.”

“I’ve been in love with you since you died,” you admitted, “Actually, since you saved me from those guys in the alley. But I just never knew that I truly loved you until you were gone.”

He looked at you now, all signs of nervousness finally gone. He uncrossed his arms and put his hand on yours. 

“Really?” he croaked, emotion flooding into his hopeful voice of relief, “That long?”

“Yes, that long!” you complained. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Like I said, I only realised when you died.”

“But what about after? It’s been years since I came back,” he pointed out. 

“I was afraid, okay?” you sighed exasperatedly, “I was afraid it would ruin whatever we have. I still am. Even if you like me back, what if it doesn’t work out? Then we’ll just end up awkward, and we lose this real great thing we already have.”

“Princess,” he said sternly, tilting your chin upwards to pierce your eyes with his gaze, “I would rather take the fucking crowbar again than lose you.”

You were taken aback by his words. You never thought that Jason was the romantic type who was a smooth talker, which made you believe how genuine he was. 

You weren’t too close before, but somehow the two of you had naturally inched closer that his lips were now a hair’s breadth away from yours. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and feel this fucking _pull_ that tugged at your chest. 

You were ready. 

Fuck, you were ready for his kiss that you’ve daydreamed and fantasized about for years. 

“I didn’t say anything because I stupidly thought you were Dick’s,” he breathed. 

The mention of Dick made you suck in a breath, and your eyes fluttered away in guilt. 

“What?” he tilted his head. 

“Nothing,” you shook yours, attempting to gain back the intimate moment, “I’ll tell you some other time. Can you kiss me now? I’ve been waiting for _so_ long and I don’t think I can-”

“Is it about Dick?” he pulled back and frowned. 

“Well, yes,” you admitted, “But I don’t want to talk about that now. I’ll tell you later.”

“If it’s about Dick I want to know,” he insisted, “Was I right? Were you his?”

“I’m nobody’s Jason, I’m not a _thing_,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You know what I mean,” he growled. 

You sighed. 

“Fine,” you conceded, “We… slept together.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. 

“We weren’t together,” you hurriedly clarified, “We were just having sex. For fun, or as a distraction. We’re still just best friends.”

“Best friends don’t sleep together,” he grit. 

“Everyone’s relationship is different,” you argued, “But like I said, it was just casual sex. Nothing more.”

“Okay, okay,” he gave in, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This was all in the past, right?”

“Yes, technically,” you cringed. 

“Past as in, years ago?” he narrowed his eyes at you. 

“I wouldn’t say _years_...”

“When was the last time?” he demanded after noticing your expression. 

“Does it matter, Jason? I mean, now that I know how you feel, I’m obviously not going to-”

“When. Was. The. Last. Time?” he hissed. 

You were silent for a whole ten seconds before squeaking out a small, “Last night?”

You could see in his eyes that he snapped. The pure anger was unmistakable. Yet, he didn’t act out like you thought he would. No yelling, no wall punching. 

Instead, he let out a calm but deadly “I’m going to murder him” and then got up from your bed. 

“Jason, come on,” you tried to stop him, “Don’t tell me you expected me to _wait_ for you when I didn’t even know how you felt. I didn’t just sleep with Dick in the past. I’ve had ex boyfriends as well!”

“It’s not about that!” he shouted before taking a deep breath to calm himself down, “It’s not about that. It’s about Dick. When it’s Dick, it becomes personal.”

“But why?” you demanded, “You were okay if it happened years ago. Why is the timing so important?”

He looked at you and blinked. 

Then, he left the room with a speed you only saw when he was fighting. 

“Jason!” you went after him. You saw him knocking furiously on Dick’s door opposite of his own. 

“Grayson!” he shouted, “Open the fucking door you two faced scumbag!”

“Jason, calm down!” you hushed. 

You heard the door unlock and open. 

But before you could even see Dick’s face, Jason had forced his way in and punched him straight in the nose, causing him to stumble backwards. 

“What the fuck?!” Dick exclaimed, holding his nose with one hand. You could see drops of blood trickle down his chin and stained his t-shirt. “You broke my nose!”

Dick made a move to retaliate, but Jason roared out first. “You knew! You fucking knew, and you went behind my back!”

You were going to come between Jason and Dick, but Jason’s words made you stop in your tracks. 

“Wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Dick glared daggers at Jason, yet didn’t move to fight back. 

“You knew how I felt about her,” Jason’s voice broke, “And you knew how she felt about me. I understand if you wanted us to figure it out ourselves- but to fucking _sleep_ with her?!”

“Jason,” Dick began, his eyes wide in realisation. 

“You’re a fucking joke, Dick,” Jason sneered, “You go around acting like a fucking mother hen, spewing bullshit about how we’re _family_, but what kind of a brother does this?”

“I’m sorry,” Dick apologized, his eyes softening. 

“Forget it,” Jason turned around, “You’re not my brother.”

He left. 

You stood in silence, digesting what had happened. You looked at Dick, who was wiping the blood off his face with his shirt. 

“You want to punch me, too?” he gave you a humorless chuckle. 

“Is it true?” you asked softly. 

“He didn’t tell me,” Dick explained, “But I knew.”

“How?”

“Sweetheart, I read people. It’s part of my job,” he stated. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you questioned, “Why did you agree to sleep with me?”

“I was selfish,” he simply said, “When you came to me that night, well. I just wanted you to myself, even if it was temporary.”

You looked at him with sadness and disappointment. 

“I’m guessing you hate me now,” Dick assumed, “It’s understandable. This was going to happen sooner or later.”

“I could never hate you, Dick,” you smiled sadly, “You’re my best friend. Nothing will change that.”

“But?”

“But I’m just- I don’t know,” you struggled to find the words, “I mean I was the one who begged you for it, so I can’t fully blame you either. Yet, I’m still really angry at you for doing that to him. He’s right. That’s not what a brother would do.”

“I know,” Dick sighed, “I’m a shit brother.”

“You’re a dick, Dick,” you pointed out, “I’m going to look for Jason.”

“There’s no point,” he said, “He probably took off.”

“What?”

“That’s what he does when he’s angry,” Dick explained, “He goes on patrol and beats people up.”

“And Bruce is okay with that?”

“He stops before going too far,” Dick added. 

“Fine then,” you groaned, “I’ll wait up for him downstairs. Let him know if you see him.”

“Seriously?” he laughed. “I’m the last person he wants to hear from now.”

“I’ll leave him a text,” you stated. 

You went down to the living room and cuddled up on the sofa, flicking through the channels on the large flat screen TV before settling for a nature documentary. 

You zoned out to the sounds of the deep ocean and David Attenborough’s voice in the background. Before you knew it, you fell into a dreamless sleep. 

***

Something felt off. 

You weren’t on the sofa anymore. You were against something hard and warm- and moving. You struggled to open your eyes, only to see the underside of Jason’s face. 

“I can see your nose hair,” you giggled softly, wrapping your arms around his neck while he carried you bridal style up the stairs. 

“I don’t have any nose hair,” he pouted. 

“Everyone has nose hair, Jay,” you argued playfully. 

“Not me. You can call me Hairless Nose Jason,” he smirked. 

You noticed that he was still wearing his Red Hood outfit, sans leather jacket, helmet, and gloves. His messy hair was sticking to his forehead from sweat. He finally reached your room and you helped him with the door knob. He set you gently on the bed before turning to leave. 

“Wait,” you reached for his arm, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I got your text,” he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up even more, “We can talk tomorrow. You go to bed. It’s late.”

“No, I want to talk to you now,” you whined, “Come sit here.”

“I’m sweaty and dirty,” he reminded you, “I need a shower.”

“Shower later,” you dismissed, “Please?”

You gave him your best puppy dog eye you learned from Dick. 

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. He took off his boots and climbed into bed next to you, leaning against the pillows and stretching his legs, just like how he was hours ago when he was watching thrillers with you. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to explain what happened,” you told him. 

“Okay, then. Explain.”

“That night when we were at the bar, and I left early? You already know why, right?” you began, “I was just really heartbroken. I was crying all the way back in the car-”

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“I know you didn’t,” you shook your head, “You couldn’t have known. But I did just feel so fucking horrible that night, and, well, I went to Dick.”

You glanced at him. He was looking into space in front, but you saw his jaw clench. 

“I asked him- _begged_ him more like- to sleep with me,” you continued, “I just needed to try to forget about you, so I asked Dick to distract me. That’s how it started. It was supposed to be a one time thing, but it became more than one occasion. I’m not defending him or anything, but I just wanted you to know that it’s not entirely his fault. He wanted to help me.”

He kept quiet, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. He didn’t look like he was going to say anything, so you decided to break the silence. 

“I just thought that, if you wanted, maybe we could start over?” you tried, “I’ve been pining over you for so fucking long, Jason. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to not just jump your bones?”

You saw the corner of his lips twitch upward. 

“Especially when you work out, _gosh_, I’d find any excuse to just sit there and watch, you know? And I’m there thinking to myself what your sweat would taste like.”

He was smiling now, a blush forming in his cheeks. 

“Remember that one time I accidentally walked in on you changing into your trunks in the pool shed? That was spank bank material for like _weeks_-”

“Okay, okay” he laughed, “I get it. God, you’re so fucking lewd.”

He looked at you endearingly, coming closer.

“You know,” you went on, “Usually when two people confess their love for each other, they end up kissing. But we? We haven’t kissed yet. So could you do a girl a favour and- mmppf!”

He shut your ramblings up by suddenly crashing his lips against yours. 

Finally. 

You could finally feel his lips. Though they felt chapped and rough against your own, he was a good fucking kisser. 

The depth of his kiss sent shooting heat to your belly, the way he massaged your lips and prodded his tongue to enter your mouth made you whimper. 

But then he broke off the kiss. 

“Wait, I just really needed to ask you something. That night when you said you had a nightmare and I came to your room, was Dick there?” he brought up. 

“Yeah?” you answered sheepishly. 

“So when I was at your door, he was…?”

“I made him hide in my bathroom,” you answered. 

“Oh,” he frowned. 

“Comere, Jay,” you pulled him by the neck for another kiss. 

This time, it got heated. The two of you were fighting to taste each other, to memorize your mouths with your tongues. You climbed on top of him and straddled his lap without breaking it off. 

But then, he broke off the kiss again. 

“Wait a second,” he realised. 

“Jason,” you whined, “Not now.”

“No, no, I’m pretty fucking sure I heard you shout my name that night, which is why I came running to you. I thought you needed my help,” he recalled, “But why would you call out my name when you were with Dick?”

He looked up at you with his curious, bright blue eyes, searching for an answer. You felt yourself start to blush in embarrassment. 

“I’ll tell you some other time,” you forced a smile. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Ugh, okay, fine!” you gave in, “Dick.. he does this really good voice impressions, okay? So he, uh, well, he did this really good one of you.”

“He impersonated my voice?” he said perplexed. 

“Yeah, and it was really good. It sounded like you were actually talking to me. Down to the accent.”

“What accent?” he asked. 

“Your accent, Jay,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up, I don’t have an accent,” he grumbled, “But what does that have to do with- oh.”

His eyes widen in realisation. 

“Did Dick fucking _roleplay_ as me?” he blurted.

“I wouldn’t call it roleplay,” you answered in a small voice. 

“Then what was it?” 

“He was just… fingering me while… talking to me in your voice…” you trailed off. 

Jason simply blinked at you. 

“He wanted to steal your helmet, too but I didn’t let him,” you added. 

“So you came to Dick pretending to be me? You called out my name when you came?”

You nodded slowly, looking down at your thumbs. 

“Holy shit,” he chuckled, “That’s kinda fucked up. I’m flattered, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t believe you made Dick pretend to be me.”

“I didn’t make him!” you huffed defensively, “He insisted!”

“It was Dick’s idea?” he gasped. 

“Yeah, and I told him how wrong it was and how I couldn’t expect him to do something like that for me, but he just continued, and uh, I just indulged,” you finished. 

You looked down at Jason then, seeing his expression slowly change from surprise to a darker, sinister smirk. 

Without warning, he flipped you over so that he was on top of you, his body trapping yours against the bed, his arms pinning your wrists above your head, his knee between your thighs.

“Well then, princess, let me tell you something,” he purred, “You have the real thing right here, and _everyone_ knows that the real thing is much better than some cheap knockoff.”

He then shoved his tongue into your slightly open mouth, deeply thrusting it back and forth while he grinded against your core with his knees according to the same rhythm. He took a hand from your wrist and dipped beneath your t-shirt, dragging it up your waist to your ribs, to push up your bra and squeeze your breast. 

“Though,” he added, “I hate the fact that Dick has touched you this way.”

“Then you just need to overwrite it with your own touches, Jay,” you suggested. 

“Hmm. Keep your hands up here,” he whispered and proceeded to take off your bra, revealing your tits to him beneath your shirt that was hiked up. 

“Beautiful,” he commented before going down and suckling a nipple into his mouth. 

“Jason,” you moaned at the sensation of his wet and warm mouth. 

He stopped and took in your other nipple, then started trailing wet opened mouth kisses and licks and nips down your body, dipping his tongue in your navel, pausing above the waistband of your pyjama pants. 

Oh, he was so good at teasing you. 

He just rested his forehead on your pubic bone, panting hot breaths you could almost feel through the cloth while his hands rubbed up and down your thighs. He then hooked his hands below your knees and pushed them upwards. 

Only then did he go lower and started mouthing at your centre through your pants. 

“Jason, please,” you whispered. 

“Please what, princess?” he teased before nipping at your covered clit with his canines.

“Fuck!” you gasped, “Please stop teasing me.”

He chuckled and straightened up, and then grabbed your waistband and pulled your pants off along with your panties in one swift motion. 

Without even warning you, he spread your thighs once more by holding your legs up by the knees and dived in to start eating you out. 

“Oh, holy shit!” you moaned at the feeling of his warm wet tongue licking long and hard stripes through your lips. 

You wanted so much to run your hands into his hair and pull and tug, but you kept them where they were, like he asked you to. 

He then attacked your clit with his tongue and lips, alternating with sucking and licking. 

It hadn’t even been a couple of minutes and you already felt your orgasm coming soon from the assault of his mouth. 

“Fuck, Jason, don’t stop, fuck!” you cried as he just licked you faster and faster. 

You came in waves of heat, your thighs squeezing his head. 

You looked down and saw him looking up at you with a boyish grin, the lower half of his face wet from your slick and his own saliva. He came up to rest his forehead against yours and kissed you. You could taste your own juices on his tongue, and hell did that turn you on even more. 

“I want you,” he demanded, “And I want you to make noise tonight.”

He straightened up to take off his clothes. You stared in awe at his naked body above you, how he looked like he was a greek god cut from fucking marble. 

Those statues had flaccid and smaller penises, though, which was the opposite of what Jason had. 

What Jason had was a beast, and that time when you accidentally saw him changing into his trunks that fueled your fantasies of him was just a small portion of his true potential. 

His hard and leaking cock looked like it would stretch you _deliciously_. 

He positioned himself on top of you, his body hovering over you while his forearms that supported his weight were next to both your ears. He reached down to align himself at your opening, and then pushed in slowly. 

Both of you groaned together in pleasure. You felt the stretch you anticipated, and the familiarity of being _filled_. 

Though this wasn’t your first time, it felt like a whole different experience because it was with Jason. It was Jason’s hot breaths against your skin, it was Jason’s sweat dripping down from his forehead to yours, it was Jason’s cock inside you. 

“Jay,” you swallowed hard, “Jason.”

He started moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you, constantly hitting your deep spot that made you see stars every time he bumped against it. 

“Louder,” he growled as he quickened his pace, sounds of skin slapping skin now filling the room, “I want _him_ to hear what I do to you.”

Fuck, he was possessive, and it made your pussy clench. 

“Argh,” he groaned. 

“Jay,” you moaned wantonly, “Oh, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Your cries were getting louder the faster and harder he went, and he wasn’t quiet either. 

No, you found out that night that Jason was loud in bed, and you fucking loved how he didn’t hold back. 

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, “Say my name. Say who’s making you feel good tonight. I want to hear that sound ringing in my ears for days. Hell, I want _him_ to hear that sound for days knowing he can’t have you no more.”

“Jason!” you cried out loud, “Jason, fuck!”

“Fuck yeah, your pussy feels so good,” he choked, “So fucking good for me, princess.”

You couldn’t respond with words, so you just kept on mewling and whining in response to his hard pounds. 

“I want to come, baby, and I want to come all over you,” he whispered in your ear, “I want to rub my cum into your skin, wherever he touched you. You want that, princess?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, feeling the tightness in your belly getting closer and closer to springing.

“Tell me, baby,” he husked, “Tell me you want my cum.”

“I want your cum, Jason!” you cried. 

“Where do you want it?”

“All over me!” you pleaded, “Please, I want it all over me! I want you to rub your cum into my skin, I _need_, Jason, please!”

You were dangling at the edge of your plateau then, and all it took was one last- 

“Fuck!” Jason groaned, and snapped his hips against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut and you came, waves and waves of pleasure and heat spread across your body, causing you to tense up and twitch and writhe beneath him. 

You felt a burst of warm liquid spill across your belly, on your tits, and even on your face, some dripping to your lips. 

You opened your eyes to see Jason had straightened up on his knees, staring intensely at you, his mouth open slightly to accommodate his heavy breaths. 

“What?” you asked, fatigue leaking into your voice. 

“You look so beautiful with my cum on your tits and face,” he smirked. 

You smirked back and darted out your tongue to catch the cum left dripping on your lips while taking your hands and spreading whatever was left on your breasts, rubbing it in circles into your skin. You explored down to your abdomen and scooped up his cum, bringing your fingers to your mouth and licked them clean. 

He tasted salty, and bitter, but still so fucking good. 

“Holy shit, you have a cum fetish,” he stared in awe. 

“Only trying to help you mark what’s yours, Jay,” you giggled. 

He smiled and collapsed next to you, staring at the ceiling. “I want to have sex with you, like all the time.”

“No complaints here,” you laughed, “Fuck, I think I was really loud. Do you think they all heard us?”

“What, you didn’t hear Damian shouting and telling us to shut up?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“What?!” you sat up in horror, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he looked at you smugly, “It was right before you told me you wanted my cum.”

“Oh, god, no,” you hid your face in your hands, “How am I going to face them tomorrow?”

“With fucking pride, princess,” he grinned. 

You laid back down on the bed, feeling the mortifying embarrassment. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” he scooted over to you and kissed you on the forehead, “It’s not like Damian doesn’t know about sex, and it’s not like Tim is so quiet either.”

“What?”

“You mean you’ve never heard Tim during his happy sessions?” he gasped, “Lucky you. Made me shudder, but I give him shit for it all the time. So it’s okay, see? Even Dick, he-”

Jason stopped his sentence midway at the mention of Dick. 

“Anyway, everyone is going to make fun of us, but that’s because they’re jealous they’re not getting any,” he reassured you, “Except Damian, he’s still at that age where he hates girls.”

“If you say so,” you doubted. 

“I’ll punch them if they make fun of you, okay?”

“Okay,” you giggled, and rolled over to face him, “I’m going to shower. I’m covered in your spunk.”

“Well, I needed a shower ever since I got back,” he propped himself up with his elbows, “Your shower open for service?”

He grinned at you. 

You grinned back. 

The two of you head to your bathroom.


End file.
